From Seireitei to Hueco Mundo: Drabbles
by KuronoMizu
Summary: A series of various Bleach drabbles, a.k.a. fics under 1000 words, that will probably grow as more ideas pop into my head. Rated T for future fics. Warnings: occasional SLIGHT yaoi hints/language. 4TH DRABBLE UP: Flowers, Chocolates & Mishaps
1. Class

_So, this one kicks off my set o' drabbles. In case you don't know what this means and/or didn't read the description...A lot of people these days use "drabble" to refer to_ _"fics under 1000 words." _And so, everyone, I bring you...Drabble Time!

_Title:_ **Class**  
_Rating:_ PG-ish? (for v. mild language)  
_Pairing and/or Charas:_ slight Renji/Byakuya...if you squint  
_Summary:_ Byakuya's musings on class.  
_Words:_ 588  
_Warnings:_ Uh...whiff of yaoi implications (barely there) and offensiveness to any fans of Rascal Flatts, I suppose?  
_Notes:_ Meant to accompany/start off my first real fic ever, "Renji and Byakuya and the Strawberry Shortcake." But seeing as that's not finished yet...EDIT 2/2/08: I've just posted that fic recently, & even though it's still incomplete, go read it; I swear it will be finished someday!  
_Finished: _No idea when, I think in 2007 before summer?

_Disclaimer:_ Don't own Bleach & never will.

* * *

If Kuchiki Byakuya was a bottle of Don Perignon… 

Then Abarai Renji had about as much class as a bottle of Ripple.

If Kuchiki Byakuya was the lobster on the menu of an upscale restaurant…

Then Abarai Renji came straight off the Mickey D's Dollar Menu.

If Kuchiki Byakuya was as sophisticated as a Lamborghini…

Then Abarai Renji was about as sophisticated as a worn-down pickup truck begging for repairs.

If Kuchiki Byakuya was as refined as an "A-movie" bound to win an Academy Award…

Then Abarai Renji was, naturally, the "C-movie" that was lucky to make it into the local video store.

If Kuchiki Byakuya was like Mousse Pocky…

Then Abarai Renji was like Pepero, or worse, the American equivalent…

If Byakuya was a collection of Mozart's finest…

Then hell, Renji was Rascal Flatts' latest album.

If Byakuya was a costly silk kimono…

Renji was a freaking white T-shirt and pair of ripped jeans.

----------

But here they were right now, sitting together in silence in the proud Kuchiki Byakuya's upscale hospital room, Byakuya staring stoically out at what he could see of Seireitei from his bedside window, Renji just sitting there trying to keep himself busy with handiwork.

And Byakuya thought, for someone so "sophisticated"…he had certainly made a few too many unwise decisions.

He reflected on how he had picked the wrong promise to keep, all those years ago…How he had consciously done nothing to stop his own sister's execution, and later gotten into a death match with the young man who was trying to do the right thing…How he had, due to Renji's reckless actions, asked for the vice-captain to be thrown out of the 6th Division—a request which now seemed equally reckless…And of course, how he had essentially maimed said vice-captain and left him for dead.

Byakuya felt a silent wave of relief wash over him at the fact that none of these had the effects he once intended. Rukia was safe and sound, and back home in Soul Society to boot. He did end up picking the right promise when it really counted, after all. His vice-captain was still here at his side, alive.

(Though he had to wonder, probably not without any grudges…)

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renji watching him as covertly as possible, trying to gauge his captain's current mood and attitude, and possibly even trying to read his thoughts. The red-haired man seemed a tad wary, as though he thought Byakuya might toss a death threat his way if he caught Renji so much as glancing at him.

And the 6th Squad Captain had to stifle a chuckle. Stifle, because the proud Kuchiki Byakuya did not laugh. Ever. It would distort the precious, precious image he had built up bit by bit.

But now he had to wonder. About image, one's self, rules, class, promises, _everything_ he had held at the core of his being! For the first time in many, many years...the proud leader of the great Kuchiki clan was all but stable.

He cast a glance back at his adjutant, who had returned to his woodwork and was now grumbling over some minor screw-up he'd made, and trying to pretend like he hadn't been secretly watching his captain in the first place.

And Byakuya smiled.

Yes, smiled. Slightly, but it was a smile.

And while doing this strange thing called smiling, Kuchiki Byakuya thought, well…that these days he also had to wonder …

…in the end, what did class really matter anyway?

* * *

-------- 

A/N: Yeah, kinda retarded, I know...Oh, and don't mention the thing w/ using "the proud" several times, cuz that was on purpose. Poetic license, people ;P

If anyone has requests, I will be taking those! Also, R&R...pretty please?


	2. Really Nice Guy

_Title:_ **Really Nice Guy**  
_Rating:_ PG-ish  
_Pairing and/or Charas:_ flavors of one-sided Hinamori-Aizen  
_Summary:_ It's a good thing Hinamori's got a captain like her Aizen-taichou.  
_Words:_ 909  
_Warnings:_ Slight hinted spoilers for the, er, revelations at end of the Soul Society Arc (through irony and implications, but trust me, you _will _get it and be spoiled! I warned you!) Plus a little sleaziness of random drunken idiots (-slash-pedophiles?) who hit on certain people.  
_Notes:_ Came to me on impulse yesterday & I wrote this all in one sitting. (Surprised myself, even--usually I don't have enough of a clear idea in mind to finish something that fast!) Forgive the writing style that's a bit 'cutesy' at times; it's for the purpose of the story.

Also, Japanese terms are italicized like _this_, to differentiate them from the rest of it.  
_Finished:_ Dec. 10th '07 (day before I posted it)

_Disclaimer:_ Don't own Bleach, never have, never will. I know, life bites.

* * *

"Hinamori-kun?" 

Hinamori Momo hears her _taichou_ calling her and snaps out of her daze, frantically responding with a "Yes, sir?"

The captain's deep voice comes drifting over from the other side of the sliding door. "It'll be starting momentarily. You don't want us to be late, now do you?" A light chuckle.

That's the last thing int the world the young vice-captain wants. "O-of course not! I'll be right out!"

But the sound of his footsteps slowly starting to move on to their destination is what makes the brunette _really_ fly around the room, checking for anything she might have forgotten. At last, she grabs a wrap to throw over her shoulders before heading out into the chilled night.

She scurries a bit to try and catch up to her _taichou_ a little sooner, wanting to show up in tandem at the party being thrown for every captain and vice-captain. This party was the year's biggest, held to celebrate the closing of another successful 365 days of killing Hollows and the like. (Regardless of how successful any given year had actually been. Still, traditions were traditions, and Yamamoto-_soutaichou_'s will was basically Seireitei's law.)

Shiro-chan will probably be there, ready to poke fun at her at the drop of a hat. (She giggles.) And if he's there, that means Rangiku-san as well, whose buxom figure will no doubt make Hinamori feel a liiittle less than adequate around her own captain. And of course she mustn't forget Kira-kun, with whom she relishes her chats and sharing of insecurities about their captains and other trials of life. She'll need his presence tonight, no doubt about that.

But the presence she's most looking forward to is simply that of her _taichou_: warm and comforting and always, always there for her.

He's still a good ways ahead of her, clearly operating under the knowledge that his devoted little _fukutaichou_ will be there with him in no time. Not wanting to disappoint, Hinamori struggles a little to speed past the rows of lanterns hanging on the sides of the Seireitei streets. Pretty soon, she won't have to see his receding back any longer.

"Hey li'l missy, where're you off to in such a rush?" The slurred voice makes it obvious that the low-ranked shinigami addressing her from the side of a building has had one too many drinks. Hinamori knows she should keep going—as fast as possible—but her stupid feet won't take her anywhere, as she's still surprised and a little confused by the stranger's sudden call.

Another man steps out from the shadows, waving a hand through the air in a lazily matter-of-fact way. "Yeah, no need to get so worked up," he coos with a similar slur. "We'll help cool your nerves. Dun' worry, we can show ya a real good time."

Now he's got her around the wrist with a grin slowly spreading across his face, the looks of which Hinamori does not like..._at all_. She blushes an embarrassed and panicked red, heart pounding in her ears. And she's not entirely sure what to do because though she's a _vice-captain,_ for God's sake—she can handle this!—there'll be prices to pay later if she happens to release or even unsheathe her _zanpakutou_ in a place like this. Besides, her fear is blocking her brain from making the split-second decisions it should be making. So all she can do is gulp a little as the other intoxicated shinigami starts to slip his arm around her waist…

And then another arm entirely is wrapped around her waist, one that is warm and comforting, strong and shielding—one that belongs to none other than Captain Aizen Sousuke. Hinamori is almost ready to cry with shock and relief. She doesn't even care how in the world he managed to end up right there; all that matters is that he _is _there.

"Now gentlemen, do you mind explaining what all this is about? No, better still, what squad are you with? " Aizen inquires, smiling warmly, though the light from the lanterns reflects rather ominously in his lenses. "As I'm on my way to a high-rank gathering right now, and I could simply mention this…incident to your captain, or captains. I'm sure he or she would be able to explain...?"

"Um…ahh…" The rank-and-file squad members are starting to back away, mumbling as the pure terror already starts to betray them on their faces. "Never mind! It's n-nothing!" And the men have already turned and broken into an awkward run in the other direction, hiccupping while uttering whimpers of something to do with "f-fricken' _Captain_…"

Aizen smiles, releases her, and beckons as he starts off down the street again. "Well then, glad that's over with. Now move along, Hinamori-kun, or we really are going to be late." Though his voice bears no ill will when he says this, and he even accompanies it with another hint of a good-natured chuckle.

A tiny teardrop still in her eye and a smile starting to span her bright young cheeks, Hinamori Momo does as she is told.

She honestly doesn't know what she'd do if she had someone of…questionable morals (like those two men, or something even worse) as her _taichou_, instead of her current captain.

And as she finally catches up with her dark-haired idol, she's consoling herself with a little something—

_Yep,_ she thinks, _it's a good thing Aizen-taichou is a really nice guy, now isn't it?_

* * *

A/N: I know I shouldn't enjoy writing creepy fics like this that kinda imply how much of a bastard Aizen secretly is through Hinamori's exaggerated misconceptions...but...--twiddles thumbs-- but...it's so much fun...;D 

Apologies to anyone now wanting to watch Aizen burn slowly or to whack poor Hinamori over the head for being so clueless. Sometimes I'm the same, eheh.


	3. Dirty Little Secret

_Title:_ **Dirty Little Secret**  
_Rating:_ I'd say PG, but type of situation here is taboo enough for a PG-13 I think?  
_Pairing and/or Charas:_ KaiRuki (AU)  
_Summary:_ It's their little secret, and it's a little piece of forbidden bliss…while it lasts.  
_Words:_ 838  
_Warnings:_ Umm…compromising situations; a bit sizzling 'n smoochy? (if I wrote it right…); teacher-student relations  
_Notes:_ This is a preview piece to a possible full-length fic I may write (if it's well-received enough, that is)…I really wanted to write something AU that takes place in a Japanese-style high school where Rukia's a lonely student & Kaien's the new teacher (or student-teacher) for a language/literature type class…and things kind of, er, develop. Yeah. Controversial pairing, ne? Eheh.  
Actually, let me know if it works better like this (writing) or with him as an art teacher! (Maybe he can unlock the hidden potential beneath her cartoony Chappy drawings...)  
_Finished:_ 2/7/08  
_Disclaimer:_ Don't own Bleach, never have, and of course never will. Alas…

* * *

Rukia knows it's not right. Probably not healthy, either. And possibly even life-wrecking. 

These thoughts are at the back of her mind more and more these days—she's well aware of what she's doing. Well, maybe not so much the outcome, but she _is_ sure of what's going on, what's _been_ going on.

But if this was true…if it she shouldn't be letting herself do this, think like this, feel like this…if it was bad bad _bad_…

…then why did it feel so right?

It's only after their encounters that the guilt starts to set in. No, when things are actually _happening_ it's like the world doesn't even exist…just their own bliss-filled little universe.

Presently she stands up, the last student in the room—as usual—and slowly walks over to where Kaien-sensei is typing up a lesson plan for the next day. Bending to peer over at the screen, she murmurs, " 'Romantic Influences in Renaissance Poetry'? Eh…?" She smiles a bit, smiles shyly. "What's up with _that_…?"

She can feel the breath from her words lightly rustling his hair. They're that close.

"_You_ should know," he responds, not turning to face her despite her hovering right over his shoulder. "Might as well teach stuff related to what's been on my mind lately. A lot." With a half-sigh he adds, "Truth is…these days, I prob'ly couldn't focus on any other kind of topic—it'd be pointless to try and teach it." At last, he turns in his chair and their faces are so close, _really_ close…but too close?

No. There was no such thing.

But that doesn't stop Rukia from blushing a tiny bit. And she can guess what he's likely to say next.

"Kuchiki…" he mutters with a wry half-smile, letting a hand float up to her cheek. "Look at what you're doing…now you've even gone and changed my teaching plans." Her heart thumps. "What're we gonna do with you?" He pauses, thinks, then adds: "…what am I gonna do with myself…"

He's come to know her too well, shifting the blame to his shoulders before she can start apologizing like mad, spilling out guilt all over the place. Before she can even think to protest, he does away with the inch of space between them and kisses her softly, unassumingly, just like the first time he had. Now he always likes to start off this way, and it's one of the warmest and most comforting feelings Rukia's ever known.

But then there's the other part…They're letting their lips drift apart, and Kaien-sensei is rising slowly from his teacher's chair to nearly twice her height. Now he's bending down to wrap his arms around her wherever they fit—one around her upper back, one at her waist—and then tightening them as if holding on for dear life. And she doesn't mind one bit that she has to stand on tiptoe, because the kinds of kisses he's leaning in for right now? Those are some of the most treasured moments she can hope for.

The other part…the one where their mouths nearly scorch each other, where Rukia's not ashamed to let her lips say exactly how she feels and neither is Kaien, where it feels like it's everything but they still want more more _more_…

Where there's no such thing as "time," or "space"…or least of all, nosy people. Just them. Them and their secret.

But it's only a matter of time…

As they both come up for air, Rukia feels woozy, dizzy, but wonderful. Kaien-sensei's face is flushed and glowing, and she thinks he's never looked more handsome. "Speaking of poetry—of the romantic type…" he breathes, "I read that thing you wrote the other day in class. Beautiful. But I never knew you thought _that_—"

"Oh, quiet!" she yelps out, half wanting to smack his now-grinning face. "But those were supposed to be anonymous, how did…" The blush on her face has been growing this whole time, and now she'd likely put a tomato to shame.

Kaien-sensei simply brushes his lips against her burning forehead, murmuring "You should know" once more: "You should know by now, Kuchiki…that I can just tell; you wear your heart on your sleeve _and_ in your poetry."

She has no chance to comment since he's got her bottom lip now, pulling teasingly yet tenderly with his own two. It's always awed Rukia: no matter how intense a situation, her sensei could always be playful at the same time—without changing the atmosphere. Her reply is to kiss him for real again, deep, slow, full on the mouth...to this he replies by taking her breath away.

It's a wonder she's even still conscious, she thinks dazedly on the walk back home. It feels like all of the blood in her body has rushed to her head and refuses to drain. She never can quite believe it, the moments she's had with Kaien-sensei…it all feels like one big dream sometimes. One she never wants to wake from.

But it's only a matter of time…


	4. Flowers, Chocolates & Mishaps

_Title:_ **Flowers, Chocolates & Mishaps**  
_Rating:_ PG for language-ish.  
_Pairing and/or Charas:_ implied ShunNana, Hitsugaya, fake RenByaku, Aizen  
_Summary:_ On every V-Day in Seireitei, you can expect things to never, ever turn out as you expect.  
_Words:_ 792  
_Warnings:_ Renji has a mouth like a sailor in this one, I suppose  
_Notes:_ Lame idea/attempt at comedy-ficcing! With some romantic overtones, of course. (I mean, it's a Valentine's fic, come on) ...yes, I know this is _ridiculously _late and out-of-season now, but it was sitting half-done on my computer and I just couldn't let it go to waste. Ehehe…  
_Finished:_ Apr. 11th, '08 (I know, I _know..._)

_Disclaimer:_ Don't own Bleach, never have, never will.

* * *

It was Valentine's Day once more in Seireitei, and even those who hadn't known of the occasion before did now, thanks to the living-world influence of the ryoka.

Some things went as always. Ise Nanao, lieutenant of the 8th Division, had gotten the usual: a bouquet of fresh-cut white and red roses, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and a huge ornate card. This year it read: "My dearest Nanao-chan, here's to our lovely future together and the many beautiful babies we will someday have. Come over to my office for a nice drink of vintage sake, would you? Love, your taichou." The signature was punctuated with a heart.

First her face flushed a light pink at the nature of certain things mentioned in the card. Then it went deep red with anger and vexation, and the menacing sheen in her glasses masked her eyes. "Preposterous," she muttered, stuffing the card in a trashcan.

She did not accept Kyouraku Shunsui's drinking invitation that day.

However, she did keep the chocolates box hidden deep within her desk drawer, saving them for special occasions. Nobody would notice if she snuck a chocolate or two, right?

--

Hitsugaya Toushirou, much as he denied it, would have been delighted with nothing more than to receive the smallest of valentines from Hinamori Momo, his longtime best friend.

Instead he got a pink heart-plastered card from his fukutaichou attached to a box of expensive assorted chocolates and sweets, some of which he couldn't even pronounce the names of. The card said something along the lines of "Here's to not doing any paperwork on Valentine's Day! Special times like these mean we can afford to take a load off... Ne, Taichou?!" Matsumoto's name was then signed beneath a smiley-face winking out hearts.

Hitsugaya's face, on the other hand, was unamused. _Oh for the love of...that's gotta be the most blatant attempt at bribery I've ever seen!_ Rolling his eyes, he plopped back in his office chair to mope. ..._And what the hell does slacking even have to do with Valentine's Day in the first place?_

He crossed his arms. No, he wasn't ticked-off just because there was nothing from Bedwetter Momo. ...Nope, not him!

--

Elsewhere in Seireitei, Abarai Renji was also wishing for a little something from his treasured childhood friend. Even a cheap Chappy doodle would've been nice. But no, he figured, Rukia was probably off whooping it up in the living world. Worse still, that also meant that in all likelihood, she was with Kurosaki and the others. _Damn it all... _An aura of gloom manifested around him, though he was sitting on the 6th Division's open-air walkways surrounded by the pleasant weather.

"Uhh... Abarai-fukutaichou?" An unranked squad member approached him timidly. "There's something I was asked to deliver you; here..." He held out a small parcel. Renji took it, nodded in thanks, and the young shinigami quickly shuffled away.

_No freakin' way...Are you serious? _He looked at the neatly wrapped little package in his hands. _For once, did she actually..._

Unable to hide his glee, he ripped it open and noticed a small card fall out. He picked it up, curious... and nearly felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets:

"_Renji,_

_I know there have been many misunderstandings between us, but know that I have always thought fondly of you, and I hope that starting today we can put all that behind us.  
Please wear this later. That is a request from your taichou.  
I'll be thinking of you._

_--Kuchiki Byakuya_"

Paralyzed, Renji let the card drop from his hand. He shifted his eyes to the package and saw what the letter referred to: a small bottle of top-notch cologne by the priciest designer in Soul Society. Then he started to tremble.

The worst part? It was called "_Amor_." Or at least, that's what the side of the bottle read.

_B...bloody hell! That's, uh...that's not the right Kuchiki I wanted a letter from..._ Renji's brain was, as of now, traumatized beyond all reason. _For fuck's sake, someone please tell me this is all a mistake_—_or some kind of cruel, twisted joke! _He was in bad shape. He didn't know if he was crying on the inside or just screaming in abject horror. _'Cause if not... that means I've got way more reasons to be scared of my taichou than I ever imagined._

_--_

Somewhere in the Kuchiki mansion, the young noble sneezed. Was someone talking about him? Well, so be it...it wasn't as if he was even remotely interested in today's happenings.

Meanwhile, in Hueco Mundo, Aizen just laughed and laughed. Even if it _was _a tad early for April Fool's Day, his little plan had fallen perfectly into place. People could simply be so fun to play with...


End file.
